


Background Noise - Their Story

by misspamela



Series: Background Noise [3]
Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-15
Updated: 2011-02-15
Packaged: 2017-10-15 16:40:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/162782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misspamela/pseuds/misspamela





	Background Noise - Their Story

Rodney's least favorite thing about the military was that they confused "having the guns" with "being in charge." Rodney considered it his personal duty to set them straight on this.

"Doctor McKay," Colonel Sumner announced in their first private meeting about the Atlantis expedition, "you are an invaluable part of this expedition." He smiled like this was news.

"Yeah, you think?" Rodney asked. "What tipped you off? The fact that I'm the smartest guy here or that, oh, I don't know, I'm the resident wormhole physics _expert_?" He crossed his arms and stared at the colonel. He'd dealt with this type of military crap for years.

The new guy – Sheppard, the one with the magic gene – smiled at him from just behind Sumner's shoulder. He waggled his eyebrows at Rodney, not _quite_ making faces, but close enough to make Rodney choke back a laugh. Not one of those Air Force guys that took macho to an art form, then. Good to know.

"Okay, smart guy," as soon as Sumner started talking, Sheppard snapped back to attention, eyes fixed on the wall behind Rodney's left shoulder. "You want to play it this way; we can play it this way." He stabbed his finger in Rodney's face. "Just so your guys don't get in the way of my guys, we'll get along fine."

Sheppard rolled his eyes oh-so-slightly. The corner of Rodney's mouth quirked up inadvertently. The new guy was funny, in an entitled, gene-bearing pretty-boy sort of way.

"Fine," Rodney straightened his jacket. "Same to you." He huffed out an annoyed sigh. "Now, if you're done wasting my _invaluable_ time, I'm going back to the lab." He turned and left without waiting for an answer.

…………………..

John tried to block out the flash-flash-flash of his memories as he walked down the long hallways of Atlantis. Sumner. The Wraith. Ford's face, waiting for an order. The cell. Sumner. The feel of his Beretta, cold and heavy in his hands. He shook it off. _You're in charge, major_ , he told himself, fighting off the cold clench of panic in his gut.

He found Doctor McKay in one of the Ancients' labs; setting up equipment, harassing his scientists unmercifully (they ignored him, for the most part), and doing everything short of _humping_ the new technology. As soon as he saw John, he whipped around and held up something that vaguely resembled a robotic teapot. "Did you _see_ this stuff?" he asked.

"Um, nice teapot?" John offered. He held up his hand to cut off the inevitable indignant outburst. "Listen, can we talk?" He nodded toward the door. "Uh, sure," McKay said, clutching the teapot. They walked past the scurrying scientists out into the hallway.

John turned to face Rodney. "I'm putting together an off-world exploration team. I'd like you to be part of it."

"Me? Really?" McKay managed to look indignant and really flattered at the same time. "Don't you think my talents would be better put to use in the lab? I'm not sure that fieldwork is really necessary."

"Nah, by the time we get stuff back to the lab, we'll already know it can't kill us," John said. "I'd like a little more advance warning on the deadly stuff. And, as you said," he grinned, "you're the best one here."

McKay nodded. "Of course," he said, waving that redundancy aside, "but what happened to 'stay out of my way'?"

"We need to work together. And Sumner –" he stopped, fighting back the memory of _teeth hands gun screams_ what happened on that ship, "Sumner's not here any more. I'm the ranking military officer. And I'm asking nicely."

Looking uncomfortable, McKay said, "I heard about what you had to do."

John shrugged. "It happens."

McKay snorted. "Well, maybe in the Pegasus Galaxy, it does. And can I just say that I find that more than a little disturbing?"

John laughed. "That makes two of us. So, you with me?"

McKay smiled and extended his hand, more still and solemn than John had ever seen him be. "I'm with you."

……………………………

He didn't feel any different.

Rodney paced around his room, nervously jiggling the device in his hand. Okay, Beckett said there was no way of knowing how long the gene therapy would take. It could be hours or days or—

 _Whoosh!_ The device lit up a gentle glowing green. Rodney suddenly knew, inexplicably, that he had to stick the device on his chest. He wondered if this was how Major Sheppard felt all the time. With a satisfying hum, it briefly enveloped him in a green light, which faded almost immediately.

Now he just had to test it. Rodney picked up a pen and poked it into his arm. The shield flashed green again and the pen clattered to the floor. _Excellent_! He thought. Okay, now for something a little more potentially harmful. For this he was going to need some help. Call him crazy, but Rodney McKay wasn't about to fight his (very wise) biological instincts against injuring himself.

The lab was no good. Kavanagh and Grodin and all of his little lab rats would just poke and prod at him, twittering about _scientific method._ Maybe Carson would help him. Carson was a good friend, and he'd be interested to know that his gene therapy worked. But…no. No, he really wasn't up for one of Carson's speeches about experimental blahblahblah and biometric interaction with blahblahblah.

Rodney snapped his fingers. Got it! Major Sheppard could help him! _He_ would think the device was cool and fun, as he rightfully should, and Rodney somehow doubted that he'd feel the need to lecture him. Rodney hurried out of his room to the transporter. If he remembered correctly, the major was inspecting some inventory reports this morning. He'd be thankful to be interrupted.

Major Sheppard looked up as he came in. "Rodney! What's up?" He was holding a clipboard and standing in front of several cases of ammunition. He shot Rodney a look that clearly said, "Save me now."

"Can I speak with you for a moment?"

The major raised his eyebrows. "Is something wrong?" He handed the clipboard to Ford, who looked just a little too happy to go back to counting bullets.

"No, I was just hoping to have your help in a little experiment."

"This is going to involve me touching dangerous alien technology that you know nothing about, right?" He followed Rodney into the corridor. "And, by the way, nice necklace."

"Not this time, and, no, it's not a necklace."

Sheppard quirked his eyebrow. "Is it a brooch?"

Rodney rolled his eyes. He hated it when Sheppard played dumb. "In about three seconds, I am going to throw you back to Inventory Hell and you can watch Ford fondle weaponry for the next two hours," he said, noting the stricken look on Sheppard's face with some satisfaction. "And, I'll go find someone else to experiment with my cool new toy."

"So what does your magic decoder brooch do, since you so obviously want me to ask?" Sheppard followed him out on the balcony.

Rodney grinned. "Hit me."

"Are we suddenly playing poker?"

"Ha ha. Hit me," Rodney raised his hands. "But not hard. That's part of the experiment."

Sheppard reached out and lightly slapped Rodney across the face. The force field glowed green and Sheppard pulled his hand back. "That stings!" He looked up with a big grin. "That is _so_ cool!"

"See?" Rodney nodded. "I want to try it with—"

"—bigger things, yeah, got it," Sheppard was already getting out his knife. He lunged forward and tried to stab Rodney in the shoulder. There was the same green flash of light, and the knife flew backwards across the balcony.

They looked at each other and said, simultaneously, "Gun."

Sheppard drew his sidearm and looked around, murmuring to himself. Numbers, by the sound of it.

"You'll have to compensate for ricochet," Rodney reminded him.

"Already done, Rodney," Major Sheppard aimed the gun and pointed it at Rodney's leg.

Rodney was impressed. At that angle, not only would it miss his bones and major arteries, but the bullet would just shoot off the balcony, past the major's shoulder and away from the pier. Rodney clenched his fists. Good angle or not, if the shield failed, it was going to hurt really, really bad. He scrunched his eyes shut. "Okay, just do it."

Sheppard lowered the gun. "Are you sure?"

"Yes, just – get it over with."

Rodney tensed, preparing himself for impact. Sheppard fired, and – nothing. The shield glowed the same green and the bullet shot off and fell to the ground. "Wow. There must be some sort of inertial dampening property to the shield," Rodney said, grinning. "This is officially the best thing we've found yet."

"I think we should do some more testing," Sheppard said, poking at the shield.

"We should probably tell Elizabeth about it," Rodney said, reluctantly.

"I have a better idea," Sheppard grinned. "Let's _show_ her."

…………………………………………….

Afterwards, everyone was saying that they never expected McKay to do it. Nobody could believe that he'd even _risk_ sacrificing himself for the good of, well, anybody. Walk into an alien black sucking vortex of doom? Not happening. As soon as Beckett had whisked McKay away to the infirmary, the hallways of Atlantis were all a-twitter with _"Can you believe..."_ and _"I didn't think he had it in him..."_ and _"He was just hoping to save his own ass"._

John thought they were all morons.

Not that he hadn't seen it before. Sometimes, you went on a milk run and things went bad. Sometimes, you were caught unawares and you were left thinking, _I didn't sign up to be a hero._ But when you went to war, you went thinking you weren't coming back.

Nobody could have thought Atlantis would be a milk run. Not even Rodney McKay. _Especially_ not McKay

John put his feet up on the balcony. Someone had dragged a few chairs out here last week, and it had become a favorite spot for John to just sit and think. It had been a long day. He could use a few hours of just sitting and staring at waves.

"Hey." McKay walked out onto the balcony. "Mind if I pull up a chair?"

John nodded and waved at the chair next to him.

"I can't believe I did that," McKay sighed.

"I can," John answered, closing his eyes and tilting his face to the sun.

"Really? Oh." John could hear him shifting around on his seat. "Major? Can I ask you a personal question?"

John cracked one eye open and turned to look at him. "You can _ask_."

"When you were a kid, what superpower did you want?"

John sat up and opened both eyes. "How is that a personal question?"

"Childhood fantasies are a very revealing aspect of one's psyche," Rodney sniffed.

John quirked a grin. "Well, I always wanted to fly. What does that say about me?"

"That you're disgustingly literal-minded. And ambitious."

"Ambitious, huh? I've had a few COs that would disagree with that." He grinned at Rodney. "What about you? Did you dream about being invulnerable?"

Rodney crossed his arms and leaned back in the chair. "No, actually, I always wanted to be able to manipulate time. You know, go back and change things, or jump ahead to see the future. When I was a kid, I always thought that, if I could just get to University, everything would be better." He closed his eyes and smiled, a sweeter smile than John thought he was capable of. It was nice.

"Isn't that more of a mad scientist sort of thing than a superpower?"

"Mad scientists make their own superpowers."

"Sounds like I'm not the only literal-minded and ambitious person here," Sheppard snorted. "So, did it?"

"Did what?"

"Did going to college make everything better?" Sheppard studied Rodney's face, suddenly wanting to get to know this guy, this brilliant, cranky, not-hero, a little better.

Rodney smiled again, but didn't open his eyes. "Actually, it did. I loved University. Grad school was even better."

"Did you come to the U.S. for school?" John racked his brains trying to think of major Canadian universities.

"No, my _mother_ ," -- wow, there was a lot of history in that word-- "said that she wasn't going to pay to ship me back and forth, scholarship or not, just because I thought I was too good for Canada." His mouth twisted into a grim smirk. "She's very patriotic." He sighed. "I didn't get out of Canada until grad school."

"Let me guess. MIT? Stanford?"

Rodney made a rude noise. "Stanford? Hardly. I'm not exactly the surfer dude type." He turned to look pointedly at John. "MIT. I was the best of the best."

"Kind of like here," John said, and meant it.

Rodney barked out a short laugh, sharp and bitter. "Yeah, but it's not good enough, is it? I mean, the Wraith the…the God-knows-what in the city, the losing power, the not-going-home," he stood up and flung his hand toward John, his voice rising. "And what about you? How can you be so calm through all of this? You're out here _tanning_ , for God's sake! Shouldn't we be _doing_ something? What can we even do?" Rodney walked over to the railing and gripped it, his knuckles turning white.

John got up and stood next to him. "We fight." he said, quietly. "We fight until we can't fight anymore."

Rodney dropped his head down and nodded.

"But," John continued, "we can't fight unless we're rested." He grinned and whacked Rodney on the shoulder. "All work and no play…"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Rodney grumbled. But then he looked up at John with a completely unguarded, sweet, shy smile. "Thanks," he said.

And right then, John knew that Rodney McKay would be fighting right there with him, the whole way, no matter what.

…………….

 _You always forget the human factor_ , Rodney thought. The plan was perfect, brilliant, really. Harnessing lightning to power the shields? A truly exquisite solution to an epic-scale problem.

Rodney was good at grand and epic. He excelled at problems that were too big for other people to wrap their minds around. The problem was that he usually sucked at the small stuff. Paperwork. People. They were details to be ironed out later.

Rodney fidgeted and shot a desperate look at Elizabeth, who was watching Kolya carefully, analyzing his every move, his conversations with his team. People were her specialty. "What can we do?" He hissed.

"Nothing," she murmured. "Let Major Sheppard do his job, which is to get these people off of Atlantis. Let me do _my_ job, which is to buy him as much time as possible."

Rodney wanted to scream that he had done _his_ job already, which was to solve the energy problem. He wanted a Get out of Being a Hostage Free card. He'd already thought of the brilliant solution, problem solved, and he just wanted to go home now, thanks. He hated that, on Atlantis, his solutions weren't enough.

The thing was, that's when Major Sheppard usually stepped in. Whatever Rodney's brain couldn't solve, the Major's gun could. Okay, okay, his gun _and_ his brain. They were partners, a team. He had done his part.

But Major Sheppard wasn't here, and that just wasn't acceptable. Rodney glanced at the guard, then at Elizabeth. Both of them could have been made of stone. Rodney swallowed hard around the painful lump in his throat. He had never been so fucking scared in his entire life.

He tried to psychically will messages to Major Sheppard. _It's the Genii, they want a Puddlejumper, Save us. Save us._ Not that there was any scientific evidence that ESP worked, of course. Rodney just worried that everything was going to go really, really wrong, even worse than it was now, because they were all split up. Ford and Teyla. Rodney and Sheppard. They couldn't communicate at _all_ , so how were they going to save Atlantis?

 _He's going to save us,_ Rodney told himself. _I can't die like this._

………………………..

John couldn't hear anything but his own breathing and the blood rushing in his ears. That was bad. It meant he was panicking. He couldn't panic. Rodney needed him to not panic. He had to save Rodney.

Elizabeth was gone. She was their _leader_ ; she was too strong to be gone. Gone, gone, no leader now, who would lead? Rodney?

John thought of Elizabeth's proud, beautiful face and his stomach lurched. Rodney was still alive, though. And if people thought that Atlantis responded to John? That was because they hadn't seen Rodney work on her. Rodney had put his blood, sweat, and tears into this place. Atlantis couldn't survive without Rodney. John had to save him.

Panic. Panic was bad.

John took a deep breath. _It's not like you haven't seen war before, Major,_ he told himself. _This is war; it's what you've been trained for. Cut the shit._ John shook his head, raised his gun, and remembered his training.

When it was all over, Elizabeth called the team together for a quick meeting. John figured it was just force of habit; a way of restoring normality. They were all too tired to actually do anything.

As she walked into the conference room, John couldn't stop staring at her. She was alive. Granted, she looked like shit, but she was alive. Elizabeth closed the door behind her, looked at the group assembled in front of her, turned white, and listed sideways.

"Whoa, Dr. Weir." Ford jumped up to steady her. He was the only one in the room that didn't look beaten. John tried to remember what 25 felt like.

"Thank you, Lieutenant." She steadied herself against the table.

"Elizabeth, Rodney said softly, with a note of concern in his voice. He looked like shit too, all of his satisfaction at being alive drained in the face of his exhaustion. John noticed that Rodney had changed into a thin white t-shirt after Beckett re-bandaged his arm. The ragged edge of the bloody gauze caught his eye. _Alive_ , he reminded himself.

"I know you're all tired," Elizabeth said, nodding around the room. "But there is a lot of work to do. We need to rebuild the parts of the city damaged by the storm. We need to figure out how to deal with the Genii." She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. Ford looked ready to catch her if she fainted. Good boy. "That's why," she continued, "I don't want to see _any_ of you on duty for at least 36 hours. You're no good to me or anybody else like this. Get some sleep." She grinned wryly. "I know I am."

They all stood wearily and filed out. John caught Teyla by her shoulder. "I heard you kicked Sora's ass. Nice job."

Teyla inclined her head, and John noticed the dark circles under her eyes. "She was foolish to fight."

"Because you didn't do anything wrong?"

"Because I would win," she said, raising her eyebrows. Teyla frowned at him. "You do not look well. Dr. Weir was right. We must sleep." She reached up to squeeze his shoulder, then walked off toward her quarters.

Ford was fine because he was Ford. Elizabeth was probably passed out at her desk. Teyla was tired, but she was used to this kind of fighting, more used to it than he was. That just left Rodney. John could check on Rodney, just one more time, before he went to sleep.

John found Rodney just outside the door to his quarters. "Hey, Rodney. Following the good doctor's orders?"

Leaning against the door, Rodney snorted. "Beckett or Weir?" He opened the door and motioned for John to follow him. "You don't have to worry about me, Major. I haven't been this tired since...well, ever, really."

"Adrenaline." John nodded. "It comes, it goes, it leaves a path of destruction through your nervous system."

"So, are _you_ okay?" Rodney squinted at him.

"Why do people keep asking me that?"

"I don't know. Maybe because you look like shit?" Rodney started to push him out the door. "Doctor's orders, Major."

Just at the door, Sheppard turned to say good night, stumbled, and grabbed Rodney's arm. He could feel the hard curve of muscle, the intersection of warm skin and the thin, smooth cotton of his sleeve. John's heart rate ratcheted up and he caught his breath.

 _No, no, no,_ he told himself. _Bad idea. Stupid idea. Don't fuck everything up, you've got this now, you've got Atlantis, that's enough_ , but his body wasn't listening to his mind. He rubbed up Rodney's arm, slipping his hand under his sleeve. His skin felt so good. Alive. Oddly soft, with a brush of hair. John hadn't felt that in a long time.

Rodney had gone still. Even his mouth was still. He was just…watching. John closed his eyes, and cursed himself as he gave in to the inevitable and kissed Rodney. He didn't push; he just fell forward into the kiss like it was fucking okay, like they could just do this, like Rodney even wanted it.

Though, weirdly, Rodney didn't seem like he didn't want it. After freezing for a second, he even kissed back, opening his mouth a little. One of his hands came up to touch Sheppard's fingers on his arm. Sheppard jerked away and stepped back.

"I can't," he said. "I just…I can't."

Then he spun away and took off. He needed some fucking sleep.

…………..

Ever since the kiss, Rodney was waiting for the other shoe to drop. A proposition of some casual sex on the East Pier, perhaps. Or maybe an apology. A gruff, manly punch to the shoulder and a very proper Air Force reaffirmation of Major Sheppard's heterosexuality.

Nothing came. By the next week, when things were up and running again, Major Sheppard acted the same as always. He made a crack about how much coffee Rodney was drinking. He teased Ford until he admitted that he had a crush on Teyla. He rolled his eyes during a briefing about security measures until Elizabeth finally snapped at him.

Rodney almost thought he'd imagined the whole thing. And he would have been fine with that, really, despite the whole new dimension (sort of new, anyway) of being horny during staff meetings or the vastly irritating way he'd started dropping things when Major Sheppard snuck up on him. Rodney had been mostly heterosexual for most of his life, barring that one time at University. There was no need to stop now.

Except…except Major Sheppard started staring at him when he wasn't looking. And touching him when he didn't expect it. Over the next few weeks,the touching and staring and teasing intensified, leaving Rodney baffled and kind of turned on all the frigging time. So, instead of being able to ignore the kiss as nerves or adrenaline, he was still waiting around for that other damned shoe to drop.

It turned out that the shoe had a name. Chaya.

Rodney should have supposed that Sheppard's heterosexual freakout would be in the form of a mysterious alien babe. How very clichéd. The Atlantis mission was in danger, even if nobody else could see it, and instead of working _with_ Rodney, he was working against him. This was a serious problem. So what did Rodney do? Confronted John like they were in grade 8 and standing in front of their lockers. Stupid teenage crap.

Later that night, Rodney realized that even Zelenka knew something was going on while they were in the lab.

"How do you get to be a Major in the Air Force and be that _stupid_?" Rodney asked as he paced around the lab.

"I assume this is a rhetorical question, yes?" Zelenka didn't look up from his laptop.

"It's a practical question. She could be anyone. Any _thing_."

"She's very pretty," Zelenka commented mildly.

"Pretty? Of course she's pretty! Why wouldn't she be? She's a fembot designed for total destruction." Rodney slapped his palm on the table.

Zelenka looked up quizzically. "Fembot? Ah. Yes. Is funny movie. I thought that fembots were more…" he traced the shape of a woman in the air, "…busty?"

"You know what I mean." Rodney rolled his eyes. "The point is—"

"The point is," Zelenka interrupted, "that you are not going to sleep tonight. So you might as well be useful." He took a sip of his tea, grimaced, and went back to his work.

"I'm already on it. I'm just waiting for the data from the biometric sensors."

"Chaya."

"Damned straight. I'm going to prove that she's not what she says she is." Rodney tapped his fingers nervously next to the sensor panel.

Snapping his laptop closed, Zelenka stood. "And I wonder what that will prove for you?" he asked quietly, walking out the door.

Rodney didn't answer. He knew what he was doing.

Apparently, "knew what he was doing" translated into "childish retaliation", because, not two weeks later, _Rodney_ was the one hooking up (well, kind of) with the (traitorous) alien babe. He wasn't going to wait around forever, right?

All he proved from that little adventure was that his love life was miraculously even more disastrous than John's. He'd put them all in danger _again_ , because he couldn't keep his damned mouth shut _again_ , and it was just like during the storm with Kolya all fucking over again, and hey! Kolya was even there! Peachy.

The last person the Rodney was expecting at his door that night was Major Sheppard. He didn't seem like the gloating type. "Okay, so we both screwed up," Rodney said. "Alien girls are not to be trusted. Kirk had it right all along, blah, blah, blah, we've got bigger thing to worry about—"

"Listen," Sheppard jumped in. "I can't do this."

"Do what?"

"I can't do the best-buddies thing with you."

This was encouraging. Rodney felt a little twinge of hope. "Because?"

"Because…it's different for me. There something – I want –" Sheppard ran his hand through his hair. "I want more." He darted a look at Rodney, then looked away.

"Well, _finally._ " Rodney grinned. "Took you long enough."

Sheppard's head snapped up. "What?"

"Did you think that I didn't want to have sex with you? Are you kidding?" Rodney ticked off a count on his fingers. "First of all, you're hot. Second of all, you're one of my best friends, which, by the way, is not mutually exclusive to sleeping together, Third, I'm guessing you don't have a secret plot to spy on, defeat, or otherwise harm the Atlantis expedition? No? Good. And fourth—" he grinned, "pickings are kind of slim around here. And we might be running out of time. I'd like to get laid while I'm still alive."

"I don't want you to feel like you have to—" Sheppard started.

"Wow, you _are_ that stupid." Rodney stopped and stared at him. "I mean, I know I say it to people all the time, but you actually are completely stupid." He started taking his clothes off. "Listen, I've never emotionally manipulated anyone into having sex with me, not successfully, at least, but I swear to God, you're going to get naked right now or I'll make your life a living hell. Got it?"

…………………..

John couldn't quite believe this was happening. Rodney was okay with all of this, he could let himself -- wait – "Living hell?"

"Don't piss off the man who can hack into the environmental controls." Rodney was struggling with one of his shoes.

Okay, not blackmail then. Was it really this easy?

"Fuck it," he said, and started peeling his clothes off. He'd been lonely too long. He liked Rodney too much. They might only have two weeks left to live. He couldn't say no to this.

The weeks, _months_ of frustration caught up with him and he fumbled with the zippers on his BDUs. _Easy, Major,_ he told himself. He peeled out of his uniform quickly and smoothly, like the trained professional he was.

Rodney grabbed him by the arm and pulled him onto the bed. "I don't know what you like; what do you like?" he babbled as he kissed John's neck. John shivered. _Keep talking,_ he wanted to say.

"How long have we been here?" John asked as he raked his hands down Rodney's back. "Pretty much anything at this point."

"Oh, oh, yeah, me too," Rodney panted. He wrapped his arms around John and thrust against him.

John sucked in a breath. It had been a really, really long time since he felt this –muscular legs against his own, rough hair tugging across his skin, the almost too-tight grip of a man's, _Rodney's_ hands on his back. God. He'd barely felt Chaya's hands skittering over him, flitting here and there, never giving him enough.

Rodney was more than enough.

He put his hands on either side of Rodney's face and kissed him deeply, yes, he could lose himself in the scrape of Rodney stubble and the husky moaning noises he was making.

Rodney was hard and pushing against John's stomach desperately. John reached down, still kissing him, and wrapped his hand around Rodney's cock. Rodney groaned. John leaned close to his ear and said, harsh and desperate, "I want to suck you."

"No," Rodney whispered. John started to pull away, but Rodney thrust harder into his hand, his hips stuttering, and said, "Too late." John kissed him messily, licking and biting and panting, as Rodney shuddered and came all over his hand.

"Me, me now," Rodney gasped and, before John could react, he pressed one last, desperate kiss on John's mouth and, oh God, shoved the covers out of the way and worked his way down the bed.

"Just tell me if I hurt you." Rodney flailed one arm up toward John in a weird lecturing sort of gesture. It was oddly reassuring.

John didn't have time to be happy or unhappy or pretty much anything, because the next thing he felt was Rodney's mouth, Jesus, his _mouth_ , hot and wet and completely perfect. John bucked into Rodney's grip and said, "Please," and Rodney said something like, "I'm trying," and then he got his mouth all the way around John's cock and made this fantastic vibrating noise, and John gave up, gave in, gasping, "I'm -- I'm gonna –"

Rodney rolled away just in time as John bent nearly in half, eyes closed, coming and coming like it had been a million years since the last time anyone touched him.

"I take it that met your standards?" Rodney was already smug, of course.

"Hardly." John collapsed back onto the bed. "Hey, can we talk about this tomorrow? I'm going to pass out now."

"Why do we have to talk at all?" Rodney threw himself down enthusiastically next to John, taking up way more than his share of the bed. "Night!"

Rodney was awake when John opened his eyes the next morning, leaning up on one arm and staring intently at John. "Hi," he said.

John took a moment to luxuriate in the feel of a warm body pressed up against him. "Hey." He turned to face Rodney. "So, what are your plans for today? Are you working on that funky Ancient toaster? Or is that even relevant now?"

At that, Rodney visibly relaxed. Understandable. He was waiting for John to freak out again. It was too early for freaking out, John decided. He could let himself have this time.

"You think everything looks like a toaster," Rodney snorted. "I can't even imagine what your toaster must look like."

"I don't have a toaster."

Rodney squeezed closer to him and lay on his back. "How do you not have a toaster?"

"I don't have a place to live," John said simply.

"Oh. Right. Well, if we get back to Earth, where are you going to stay?"

"Hotel, I guess. I hadn't thought about it." John didn't really think about going back to Earth much.

"And what about if we go back for good?" Rodney looked worried, a little crease forming between his eyes.

"Are _you_ planning on going back for good?" John was surprised. Atlantis was Rodney's baby.

"I'm not sure. I have matrix I created that calculates danger versus boredom, plus various risk factors, of course –"

"Of course," John said dryly.

"And the Wraith are coming, so…" Rodney closed his eyes and shuddered.

"Don't worry. You'll think of something. You always do." John reassured him.

"I wouldn't be so sure." Rodney composed himself and asked, "Well, what about you? Do you miss Antarctica?"

"Yeah, sometimes." John raised his eyebrows pointedly at Rodney. "It was quiet." He shrugged. "I don't know. I guess I'd go if you went. It wouldn't really be the same."

Rodney quirked a grin on one side of his mouth. John loved it when he did that. "Atlantis is our baby, isn't it?" He cocked his head at John. "You know, you don't have to be all romantic. You're in my bed already."

John rolled his eyes. "God, the ladies must _love_ you." He got out of bed and started hunting for his clothes.

"Hey, you'd be surprised…okay, no." Rodney admitted. "Not so much." He stood up and retrieved John's underwear from one of his chairs.

John laughed. Still, he wondered…

"So, have you ever, you know, done…" John gestured toward the bed.

"Slept with guys?" Rodney rubbed his chin. "Just once, at University. I was really drunk."

John winced. _Never figured you for a three-beer queer, Rodney_. But that wasn't really fair.

Rodney looked at him closely. "Have you?"

"Yeah." John thought about how to explain. Max. The Academy. The long, lonely years afterward. "Yeah," he repeated. "I have."

"It must have been hard. In the military, I mean."

"It was," John said quietly.

"Well, good thing we don't need to worry about that here, huh? Considering that we’re both pretty much in charge of things around here. And, you know, the whole other galaxy thing." Rodney smiled.

Dumbstruck, John stared at him. They didn't have to worry, did they? They could…he could have this. John's face hurt and he realized he was grinning like an idiot. _Rodney was right_ , he thought. _I actually am completely stupid._

"What's so funny?" Rodney asked.

"You know what I like about you, Rodney?" John pushed him backwards against the wall.

"What?" Rodney pulled John's t-shirt out of his hands and threw it on the ground.

"You're always right."

"Funny, but most people don't find that endearing. I have no idea why."

"I'm endeared." John licked up Rodney's neck. "Listen, we're probably not going to have much time –"

"Left in this world?" Rodney bit John's shoulder and pushed against him demandingly. "I know, thanks for reminding me."

"I mean, we're going to be working really hard, so—" John lost his trail of thought as Rodney kissed his way down John's stomach and back up again, one hand wrapped around John's dog tags.

"Make the most of it, yeah, I got it," Rodney tugged him to the bed by his tags. "So I have this idea."

John let himself be led. "You usually have pretty good ideas."

Kissing him deeply, Rodney wrapped one leg around him. He broke away and said "Here, how about this?" Rodney sort of pulled and rolled until John was face-down on the bed. _Oh_.

"Do you? I mean, can I? If you've done it before, then maybe, is it okay?" Rodney asked, running his hands up and down John's thighs.

John groaned and ground into the mattress. "Yes, God, yes," he said. "Lotion. Something."

"Got it, got it," Rodney muttered, and apparently he did, because he felt something – yes, lotion by the smell – smoothed over his back and thighs and oh, yes, _that's the spot_. John hitched his hips up.

"Wow, okay, yes, you look so good, do you know how good you look?" John closed his eyes and listened to Rodney talk. This was the perfect thing; slick fingers pushing inside him and Rodney's voice babbling in his ear. He was so hard he was seeing stars. He reached down to grab himself.

Rodney caught his hand. "No, I want to – can you come like this?" He twisted his fingers deeper.

John jerked and pressed into the mattress. His thighs started to shake. "Yes," he gritted out. "God, _please_ , Rodney."

"Oh, oh, okay." Rodney gasped. He sounded like he was barely hanging on, himself. John felt pressure, pushing. He clenched his jaw. "Does that hurt? Please say no," Rodney panted.

"Just keep going, please, don't stop," John begged. He thrust against the sheet. It was almost enough friction, but not quite…

"This is amazing, so amazing, hold on, lift up, oh yes," Rodney babbled.

John must have lifted at the right angle or relaxed just enough, because Rodney slid in, all, the way, filling John with an almost unbearable pressure. John's cock jerked and he clenched his fists in the blankets.

"Oh. My. _God_." Rodney breathed.

John could feel the pressure spreading inside him, making his muscles quiver. He pushed up and back and Rodney moaned and finally got with the fucking program and started moving, awkwardly, in the wrong rhythm, then he caught it just right and started hitting this great spot and John squeezed his eyes shut and pushed harder into the bed.

Rodney reached down and – thank God – wrapped his hand around John's cock and yeah, that and one good thrust was enough to send him flying over the edge, coming apart with Rodney still inside him and still _talking_ , even though John couldn't hear the words anymore.

When his brain cleared, he heard Rodney clearly. "I can't, I want to make this, I'm not going to—" Rodney was gasping as he thrust wildly into John. "Do it," John gasped. And that worked, amazingly enough. Rodney pushed into him and groaned and John could feel him shuddering deep inside and God, if only Rodney took orders in the field that easily.

They separated, sweaty and sticky, and collapsed on the bed.

"You know, I usually consider profanity the hallmark of a simple mind, but, _holy shit_." Rodney gasped. "And I mean that from the bottom of my heart."

"You got that right." John said. He looked at Rodney. "We have to take showers and get up, you know."

Rodney nodded tiredly. "The Wraith. We need a plan." He rubbed his forehead. "What the hell are we going to do?"

John grinned. "We fight them. Together. Like we always do."

Rodney grinned back. "That just might work."


End file.
